


And Then Find Peace

by the_ragnarok



Series: Wear White [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 3, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/F, F/M, Full Moon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-19
Updated: 2013-02-19
Packaged: 2017-11-29 21:14:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/691507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_ragnarok/pseuds/the_ragnarok





	And Then Find Peace

**Author's Note:**

  * For [verity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/verity/gifts).



"According to the lore, the full moon in the month of Av marks the day when forbidden marriages are permitted.” Lydia nibbles on the pastries the betas brought. Apparently Lydia can make werewolves not only come in peace, but bring muffins with them. Allison doesn't know why she's surprised.

" _The_ full moon?” Isaac says. He's gone fuzzy in the face, but is still willing to sit still. The other two are the same, give or take some fidgeting.

"Lunar calendar.” Lydia waves her hand. “Given that, the leap from _forbidden_ to human-werewolf relations was pretty obvious. The humans would signify their willingness by--”

"Going out to the wild all in white,” Allison says slowly, remembering the faint snatches of text she herself read. 

Lydia pours herself some Kahlua and smiles. “Therefore, if you three want to go out and look for _other_ willing humans, we obviously can't stop you. But then you'll leave the two of us here, all alone...” she shrugs dramatically. “Well, who knows what might happen?”

The betas seem in no hurry to leave. In fact, Boyd and Isaac seem to be in competition for who fills Lydia's wineglass the quickest.

"I could just throw you over my shoulder and drag you to my lair,” Erica drawls in Allison's ear. 

Allison shivers, but not for the reasons she should. It's just – it's been a while, okay, since she last saw Scott. It's weird how quickly you get used to the dumbest things, hands to hold, warm skin against yours, another person's heartbeat. She may have also drunk a bit more than advisable. “You don't have one.”

“We could go to my room,” Erica says. “My parents aren't home.”

Allison smiles weakly and shifts away a little bit. Reminds herself that this is just the way Erica's been since getting the bite, using her sexuality like a blunt instrument.

In the other corner, Lydia lounges against Boyd with her feet in Isaac's lap. When Isaac's hands stray a bit too high on her leg, she kicks him viciously with a stiletto heel.

Makes Allison feel like a coward by contrast. “If you want to fuck me just go ahead and do it.”

"Way to take all the fun out of it,” Erica mutters. Her hand is still roving on Allison's back, tracing gentle circles. Allison has to concentrate not to relax into it, but she manages; Erica being _gentle_ isn't something she wants to find comforting.

So she turns, abruptly, moving her face right next to Erica's. “Do you want to fuck, Reyes?” she enunciates carefully. “Or just fuck around?”

Erica rolls her eyes and pushes Allison to the ground. Allison moves with her, supple like bending wood, hitting the floor softly. Erica's stupid perfect werewolf hair tickles her face. She crawls on top of Allison, and...

Does nothing. Just lies there, breathing, and as far as Allison can tell Erica's as content as a cat in a sunny spot.

"What,” Erica drawls, so amused Allison wants to punch something. “You think I want your guilt-sex, _Argent_?”

Her own last name shouldn't make Allison flinch. It does, though, and there's no way Erica can miss it from where she's lying. Across the room, Lydia's leaning against Boyd with his arm slung across her stomach. Isaac rapturously nuzzles her wrist.

Erica lets out a gusty sigh. “Get a clue, Allison. This isn't Werewolf Boner Moon. We just want to cuddle up to some humans. Your virtue,” she gives a little snort at the word, “is safe.”

_Safe_ isn't what Allison would call this. Sex she could've handled, something rough and angry, _moving_. "I know you want to hurt me,” Allison says in a low voice.

She feels Erica's shrug rather than sees it. “Guess I do.” She twists her face up to look Allison in the eye. “Oh, will you relax already? Sex with people you hate: not worth it. Trust me on this one.” She doesn't sound particularly bitter, just darkly amused.

~~

Allison doesn't know what to do with her hands. They're drawn to Erica's shoulders, muscle memory from the last time she lay with someone like this. Erica's hair is getting in Allison's mouth, smelling like sweat and earth. “When's the last time you washed your hair?” Allison mumbles.

"Hard to get around to a good rinse with hunters on your trail all the time.” Erica says it into Allison's collarbone, slightly slurred. “And I'm trying to sleep here, do you mind?”

If she's quiet enough, Allison can hear her own heart beating in the dark over the sound of Lydia's faint snores and Erica's breath. "I'm sorry,” she says, when the not-silence gets to be too much. 

"It's fine, just be quiet,” Erica grumbles.

Allison clears her throat. “No, I mean, I'm _sorry_.” It's not just Erica who's owed an apology, but Erica's close and Allison might as well say it, for all the good it won't do.

"Okay,” Erica says after a moment. “Apology accepted, _now_ can we sleep?”

Allison blinks. “Really?”

With an exasperated sigh, Erica slides off her to the floor. She grunts at hitting the concrete. “I don't know.” She rolls to her back beside Allison, staring at the ceiling. “Maybe it's just the moon thing making me not wanna rip your throat out with my teeth.”

Allison nods dumbly.

"Or,” Erica says, flopping to her side, “maybe life's just too short to stay angry. Too much work.” After a moment's thought she adds, “Same goes for guilty brooding. I spend enough time with Derek Hale, I should know.”

Allison covers her mouth with her hands, surprised into laughter.

"I'm not saying we should braid each other's hair until sunrise, but we're not going anywhere. I might as well wait till tomorrow to hate your guts.” 

Allison touches a curl of Erica's, lying on the floor between them. “You never braid your hair, anyway.”

"Don't know how,” Erica says.

"I do, I could,” Allison says, halting.

Erica rolls over and smiles, lazy and deep. “I guess you could. Nobody has to know, right?”

Allison looks down to the shining gold strands she's holding, and lets her fingers speak for her. 


End file.
